Scent
by White as Sin
Summary: Fire smells of ashes, burning things, dark and acrid and smoky. But how could something so fiery be so... delicate? RaiKim oneshot


Disclaimer: I do not own Xiaolin Showdown, thank you!

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Scent

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Ash. That's what he always thought fire would be like. Ash and smoke and tobacco.

His native city of Rio de Janeiro was not the most pleasant of places for smells. True, there was the ocean, but it was a place industrialized, the salty brine of the ocean barely distinguishable, filled with the nauseatingly sweet smell of exhaust and the decaying garbage cans overflowing with rubbish the tourists left behind. His favorite time had been going to the market, smelling roasting chicken, fresh tropical fruits, drying peppers. Fires were torches lit, barbeques of coal and lighter fluid. Fires were his grandfather's cigars, nauseating but vaguely comforting in their acrid, rubbery smoke.

But as he caught Kimiko, felt her against him as Dojo cut through the sky in an enormous curving line of emerald scales, she smelled like- like cinnamon.

Cinnamon and nutmeg and the curious allspice, all precious things in his grandmother's spice rack of mahogany wood with a thousand tiny drawers, each with different colored dusts and leaves and pastes with a thousand smells and tastes and textures. Every single one was different, every single one an old friend and a treasure to his grandmother, who used them to utter perfection in everything from chicken to cookies, made everyday food all the more special. He inhaled deeply and realized that it was fire, that she was fire. Not lingering candlelight, not the ruby tip of his grandfather's cigar. But fire, true fire. Burning deep in the earth, in the sky, across the seas. Fire in the heart and in the mind.

But in his arms, or at least leaning against his chest, she was soft and thin and fragile, like his grandmother's canaries, heart fluttering at a thousand beats per minute. Fire dwelt in something that seemed so breakable, a crystal casing around the most beautiful flame in the world. But he knew that she was powerful, knew that she was not what she seemed. His bruised arms would attest to that. Her hair whipped at his face, fighting its bonds and he took another deep breath.

She smelled of vanilla and strawberries and something sweet and fresh and lingering, something that reminded him of her home town, of the old tradition behind the tech geek paradise. He closed his eyes, and the whipping of her pigtails across his face seemed more like caresses and soft trails left by fingertips. He wished he dared to pull her close, to actually dare to claim this fragile, beautiful, powerful, special, kind, passionate- being. But- he couldn't. His fingers were limp, his strength drained. So he pretended. He pretended that they were one another's, pretended they were wound in an embrace, she was snuggled against his chest and he held her close, willingly, happily.

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They had wontoday's battle, learned the day's lesson, kicked evil's butt, cheered as the villain slunk away for another day, and now they rode off into the sunset.

It was late and stars already dotted the sky as the sun sank back as if with a sigh, and the sky changed. The fearless little leader clung to the dragon's neck with the force of a little monkey, sleeping and dreaming of grand, innocent things. Their earthy American companion, the guardian of the Earth, was smiling down at the little monk, watching over him like a great big guard dog, friendly and gentle, but sheer hell when angered.

She was somehow against him again, leaning against his chest. She swayed in her seat and upon impulse, he put his hands on her hips, lightly, enough to hold her still. He braced himself for a shriek. But instead, she signed and snuggled closer.

"Mmm, you're warm, Rai," she murmured.

He didn't say anything, didn't want to break this moment when she woke up and was back to her fiery brash self again. He did love that side but- that aspect was not particularly conducive to an attempt at affection.

She took in a deep breath, eyes closed. "You changed your scent."

He blinked in surprise. "What?"

She yawned. "Normally you smell like- like a tropical day… sand, salt, green... Did you change your cologne?"

"Why do you ask?" He had to lean close to whisper into her ear.

"You smell nice, different, but nice. Like-" She yawned again. "Like pine and sandalwood and- and- apples…" She leaned against him heavily. He held her closer, wrapped his arms about her slim waist. "Like wind," she whispered.

He could have kissed her, could have told her his true feelings. But he could only settle for bending over, touching his lips to her forehead softly, letting his kiss trace over her soft pale skin, at the fringes of her silky hair. "Like fire," he whispered back.

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Author's note: Yes, another one of my Xiaolin Showdown fluff/regret one shots. I'll have to put one of those two kissing SOME time… Ah well. This kind of love is more poignant. Ha hah/evil maniacal laughter/

As for the inspiration of this? A friend and I were cuddling on my couch. We're like cats, I swear. And he said suddenly that I smelled like strawberries. Never had that one happen to me before. Never got the whole "you taste like (plant based noun) and (dessert)" thing either. But it's sweet to write about, ne? Sweet like apple pie!


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